Compliance of Conquest
by crispy362
Summary: Nestled in a system with several other planets, everyone thought Conquest would be the most secure place to make their new home. A Covenant invasion saw that dream turned on its head. As the inhabitants fought for their lives amidst the aliens, a new force came to their aid. Calling themselves The Imperium of Man, they came to subjugate these aliens. But could they be trusted?
1. Chapter 1

Scott Horman looked out the windows of the ship he had found himself taken aboard. Perhaps "imprisoned" was not the correct word. He had been invited from his orbital sanctuary when the covenant had attacked. He had willingly boarded, and been willingly led here. He wore no shackles or chains, and had the deepest sense that he was free to leave whenever he wanted. The room he was in was pleasant enough. The walls were of some sort of gold and silver, and etched on each was a massive symbol, in the shape of an inverted horseshoe. Pleasant smells wafted throughout the room, around the shelves, filled with books, and rolled scrolls.

He glanced to his rear, and briefly examined once again the massive table in the center of the room. This particular furnishing was rather simple, as if it had been brought here for this exact purpose. It was of deep, brown wood, with no carvings or markings of any sort. A small chair sat at one end, no doubt for him, while a massive chair, far larger than any human could possibly need, sat at the other end. He sighed and turned his head back to the viewing portal that had originally garnered his attention.

Here was Conquer. His home. The world that he governed. And it was burning. The Covenant had showed up some time in the middle of the night, around three nights ago, around the time this strange craft was detected on long- range scans. They had come intent on murder, and had quickly subjugated the planet and her populace. _Subjugated, but not for long_ he thought to himself. He knew what would come next. They would roam through the towns and cities in killing bands, murdering as their whims saw fit, leaving no survivors in their wake. The battle still raged on below, but he knew that his forces were in the midst of a losing fight.

He vaguely wondered to himself how this vessel was able to stay out of range of Covenant detection, but it made little difference. Nothing at this point could halt the Covenant onslaught. All that would be left for him to govern would be a ball of dust and ash.

The door behind him slid open, and the sounds of metal boots on metal flooring echoed throughout the chamber. He turned suddenly to see two monstrous figures in gleaming blue armor, both holding large banners. They were almost impossibly tall, at least two and a half meters in height, and were twice as wide as any normal man. Their helmets gave no indication as to any facial features, and they stood so motionless, he wondered if they were even living at all.

Several normally- proportioned humans, bristling with augmentics filed in behind them, bearing drinks and food in unfaltering, metallic arms. He stared at the offerings and found himself suddenly very hungry, as yet another figure entered the room. This figure was armor rather similarly to the other two, save for his missing helmet. His face was soft, saved for the pink, knotted scar that ran from his forehead to his throat. His dark skin, and gently sloping forehead gave way to close- cropped black hair. He wore a great, red cape, with a small sword strapped to his side. His hand rested upon its pommel as he entered the room.

He stood at the head of the table, and bellowed to the very ceiling "Presenting Primarch Guilliman!" Every knee in the room bent, and every head bowed. Scott was confused by this ritual, to say the least. However, he followed suit as well, not wishing to offend. Extremely heavy footsteps that seemed to shake the very floor soon entered the room. A gentle voice stated "Please, my dear friends, rise." Scott rose as instructed, only to find himself face-to-face with an absolutely monstrous figure. He must have been over three meters in height, and nearly twice as wide as the armored figures. He wore a simple robe, that cut over his shoulder, revealing his heavily muscled form beneath. Upon his head was a golden crown, designed to resemble olive leaves, much like the ancient Caesars of days past. His face was kind, and his features were extremely soft. He was beautiful. Rather more like an angel than a man.

He gave Scott a quick glance, seeming to size him up. "You must be this planet's governor." He said with a light smile. "I deeply apologize for calling you away from your home on such short notice. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion." He said with a short, stately bow. Scott took a deep breath. He wasn't sure it was possible, but in the presence of such a being, he seemed to have lost his voice. "Scott Horman," he finally croaked. "Planetary Governor." He reached his hand out to shake the other's. Guilliman stared at his hand, as if in curiosity, but finally accepted the gesture. He motioned for Scott to sit, and took his large seat himself, before taking a chalice of wine from one of the shambling, augmented humans.

He sipped, and remarked "We detected several large ships leaving warp space, and followed the signal here." One of the creatures, whom Scott was beginning to think were not humans, offered him a similar chalice. He sipped the sour, strongly alcoholic wine inside and shuddered. Guilliman chuckled at this, and shook his head. "You're not obliged to finish it, my friend. I understand that our libations may be a bit too strong for normal humans to palate."

Scott placed the chalice back on the table, and momentarily stared in awe at the figure before him, nearly losing his voice again. "What are you?" he blurted without thought. Guilliman seemed to chuckled again at this, before taking another sip of his wine. "I, dear friend, am a Primarch. The Emperor's handiwork made flesh and bone." Scott's eyes narrowed at this answer, and he retorted "Emperor?" "Yes," Guilliman said without hesitation. "The Emperor of Mankind. My father. The reason I am here." Another one of the creatures offered Scott a plate of what appeared to be fruit, and he took it graciously. "Old night is at an end, my friend," Guilliman continued. "The Emperor has decreed that all planets that humanity call home be brought back into the fold of his Imperium." "Old night?" Scott questioned with a hint of confusion. "Yes. The period in which humanity has been separated from its brothers and sisters."

"So, what does this have to do with us?" Scott asked, a sense of dread building within him. "I am here to bring this planet back into Imperial compliance, per the decree of my father." "What does that mean for us?" "Well," Guilliman replied "It would mean receiving Imperial protection, financial aid, should the need arise, and an end to your Xenos problem. All that you would have to do is declare the Emperor the rightful ruler of humanity, and pay a small tithe, of course."

"What would that mean for me?" Scott asked, now on the edge of panic. "Would I need to abdicate to this Emperor?" Guilliman stood and walked around the table to him, gazing thoughtfully at the volumes of books and scrolls lined along the walls. "No, my friend, nothing like that. You would simply answer to him. We would be more than willing to leave your government intact." Scott warily watched Guilliman circle him, aware that a being this monstrous could probably snap his neck with a mere flick of his wrist. "And what if I refuse?" Guilliman looked down at the floor, his face full of regret. "Then, my friend, compliance would be enforced, not given."

"You would make war on us?" Guilliman nodded sadly at this question. His head rose, meeting Scott's gaze. "If we must. But think of all the benefits a mutual alliance would bring. Think of all the things we could accomplish together." Scott turned his face away from Guilliman's gaze. "You would have access to all of the technology we have to offer. We could take you beyond these stars, and into the entirety of the galaxy." Scott looked pensive as he considered Guilliman's words. "Think of your people." Scott suddenly turned his gaze up. Images of his friends, his family, now lost to the covenant war engine flashed in his mind. He suddenly felt deep pain.

"Without us, they will return, won't they? These creatures already know where you are, and they will stop at nothing to return, and claim this planet as theirs." Scott swallowed hard. "You can help us?" Guilliman approached him, and knelt in at his feet. He placed a massive hand upon Scott's shoulder, and gazed deeply into his eyes. "I swear, on my honor as a son of the Emperor, I will defeat these aliens, and push them back into the void." Scott suddenly lost his breath at the sudden physical contact. "May- may I think about it?" Guilliman shook his head. "There is little time for diplomacy, my friend. With each passing moment, more human lives are lost. We must act quickly." Scott's eyes suddenly teared. "Alright." He said. "I will submit to your father." Guilliman nodded in satisfaction, and stood. "You won't regret this decision." He returned to his seat, and finished his wine, but he did not sit.

"I do require one more thing from you. Tell your ships to stand down, and make for the third planet. The way must be clear for our forces to make planet fall." Scott nodded, taking another dreadful sip of his wine. Guilliman turned to the dark- skinned man that had announced his arrival. "Send word to the legion. I want three companies to converge on the capital city. It must be taken if we are to expel the xenos from this world. And make ready my war plate." The man nodded and immediately left the room. He turned to one of his standard bearers next "Send word to the mechanicum that Legio Titanitca is to make planet fall within four hours. I want Mons Furiosa to make planet fall ahead of all the others. The man nodded and left the room quickly.

Scott stood and sauntered to the window once again, staring at his poor, burning planet below. Guilliman took to his side and placed his arms behind his back. "It is a beautiful world." Scott nodded. "I hope you know what you're doing." He remarked, momentarily forgetting his awe. "If my sons can't retake this world, there is no force in this galaxy that can."

The hideous sounds of flights of banshees screamed overhead, filling the sky with burning streams of plasma. Alicia turned a wary eye to them as they passed, and let out a sigh of relief after they were gone. She reached behind her and grabbed a nearby canteen. She leaned back in her rubble hiding spot, and looked to the man beside her. He stared at the canteen with hungry eyes, and licked his lips as she pressed the open top to her mouth. She handed it to him, and he drank ravenously.

"Won't be long now." She said thoughtfully. "Orbital bombardment will start soon." The man finished the water off and nodded. "But they won't glass us until their guys are out, right?" She shrugged. "Usually. But we can never tell what they'll do next." Several shots rang out across the street, prompting them both to duck. Alicia peered over the ruined wall into the next building. A few grunts were pouring inside, but no one else seemed to have noticed. "Was that third squad?" the man asked in a shaky voice.

"Yeah." She said, shaking her head. "And it doesn't sound like there's much of a fire fight over there. Poor bastards must've offed themselves." An elite loomed in the distance. Alicia picked up her assault rifle, and shouldered it. "They're coming back around here, though. Looks like they're looking for stragglers."

"What should we do?" came the man's shaky voice. "Try to make it through the building, probably. But there's no guarantee they're not on the other side too." She replied without thought. She looked down at her ravaged uniform. Her torn boots dug into the ground, wetting her socks and chilling her to the knees. It rained here earlier, but it seemed like a distant memory now. An ensuing firefight had taken out most of her squad. Herself and the man were the only ones left. She stared at him momentarily, trying to remember his name. Michael? Perhaps. She only vaguely remembered meeting him.

"You think we'll make it out of here?" he asked, breaking her train of thought. "No." she replied frankly. "The fighting is winding down. There's barely anyone who can fight left out there. They'll be looking for the civilians next." He nodded, holding tighter to his assault rifle. "You think it'll hurt?" "No. I think it'll be fast. Just make sure you go down fighting." She replied.

The aliens moved on to the next building, seeming to forget their little hiding spot. Alicia peered over the wall once again, and scanned the nearby street. The grey backdrop was deathly quiet, save for the sounds of distant gunfire. Bodies line the street, fluttering papers pinned to their chests. _Names, perhaps,_ she thought, _so their families can find them. Not that there's much left to find._ The copper scent of nickel plasma mixed with the foul stink of charred flesh. It seemed to hang in the air, and stung the nostrils of all who happened to catch its scent, as if in reminder of what was to come.

She turned to the man, and tightened her helmet strap. "We need to move. No use dying in this hole." The man stood on shaky legs, and gripped his assault rifle ever tighter. Alicia did the same, and checked the chamber to ensure there was a round ready. Her ammunition counter was dangerously low, and she only had one magazine left. _Gotta make them count._ She thought as she stood. She pointed to another nearby basement. "There first." She said "Then we make for a further building. I'll bet anything there's someone left at the square we can link up with."

"Are you sure we'll make it that far?" he asked in a terrified voice. "No." she replied. "But it's the only choice we have, kid. We have to keep trying. At the very least, maybe we can find some water."

They both stood, and moved as one across the street, ducking behind a low-hanging wall that led to a staircase. The stench of death leaked from this hole in the foundations. There was no telling of the massacre that occurred in its black depths. Alicia averted her eyes from void.

The way was clear ahead. She pounded the man's shoulder, and pointed to the next outcropping of destroyed rock. As they moved, a flash of light cut the sky. Its wake burned brilliantly with orange flame as its bulk left the atmosphere. A sonic boom shattered the air, and it landed with a dull bang just over the horizon. A white glow shone where its trail had been. The two marines stared in awe. "Wh-what was that?" the man asked with a hint of fear. "I'm not sure." Alicia replied.

Captain Cassius Callon knelt on the floor before his brothers and the prime iterator of the legion. His cobalt-blue armor clanked against the cold, plasteel floor as the iterator approached. His brother captains stood behind him in solemn witness to this moment. Cassius always took his oaths of moment seriously, and always on Skarhelm, his personal power gladius.

Astartes typically weren't given to such acts of superstition, but it had carried him through many wars alive, and had slain many Xenos along the way. He viewed it less as a good luck charm, but rather more like one of his own battle brothers, locked at his side so long as he drew breath. The sword's pommel was presented to him, and he reached out to rest his gauntlet upon it. "Brother Callon," the iterator began, "Do you accept your part in this?" "I do," he replied. "Do you swear to conduct your legion to glory, and to defeat the enemies of Conquer, be they human or Xenos?" "I do." He replied. "Then be thou anointed in the Emperor's light, and receive his blessings" The iterator said. He approached, and attached a leaf of parchment to the Captain's right pauldron with a glob of hot, red wax. Cassius stood and took up his gladius, sheathing it at his side.

The great, metal pyramids behind them opened as would a blue flower. Its internal red glow bathed the Astartes. Drop pods. One of the Astartes' greatest weapons. They provided the element of perfect surprise, with the ability to deliver upwards of twenty Astartes quickly into the fight. The sky would soon erupt with thousands of the genetically enhanced warriors, and the firmament would come aflame with their impacts. As one, hundreds of Astartes turned to face the readying pods.

"Brothers!" the Captain called over the cohort. "Board the drop pods!" The Astartes quickly rushed to the vehicles, and grav-harnessed themselves into place. The captain boarded the nearest pod. "Gear check, brothers." He spoke over the din of the charging grav-launchers. He harnessed himself, and began checking his own gear. There was a sudden boom, and a shudder as the pod fired into space, toward the besieged planet.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2: Spoils of War

A green field opened before Hermes as his eyes adjusted to the brilliant sun of Macragge. He put a hand above his eyes to shield himself from the white glow. Whispers surrounded him as he stepped into the meadow, his bare feet brushing the grass as he walked. The warm sun bathed his skin, and pleasant memories presented themselves before his eyes, and faded out of existence as quickly as they had come. Memories of battles past, fought against Xenos and human alike, where he had won the glory and admiration of his brothers.

The whispers brushed words of encouragement across his ears, as light and gossamer as a feather's touch. Some thanked him for his service to the Imperium and to his legion, while others wished him a good journey through his subconscious. Some even sounded like the voice of his Primarch. These visions, however, were nothing new. He knew he was dreaming. He had been for what felt like centuries. But still, they were a welcome sound in this field of eternal bliss.

A river was born before him, and he waded in up to the knee, and stooped to drink of the cool water. It tasted sweet upon his tongue. Here, he still had a tongue with which to drink. Here, his wounds had healed, and he was whole once again.

He continued to walk, lazily sauntering past the newly- forming groves of sweet apples, and the tall reeds of Albin's cane that scented the air with their honey-like nectar. He would enjoy plucking one of those apples, and tasting its flesh once again, but he knew this was not destined to pass, for the hill in the distance was always his destination.

There, memory burst from his psyche, and he would be a boy once again. She was there too. He had only the vaguest of memory of her, but here, she was always clear. And they would laugh and frolic through the green fields to their heart's content, until they both collapsed in the grass, destined to start the dream over again.

He climbed the hill to find her seated under a tall tree of lively oak. Small mammals danced and played through its branches, and her gaze turned up to them. Her hands danced over a small scrap of parchment before her as she struggled to capture them in their happy romp. He approached, and sat beside her, trying his best not to break her concentration.

Her eyes lit up as she noticed the Astartes, and she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, shouting "Big brother!" He laughed and reciprocated her hug, his chest shaking with pent- up laughter. "You've come back!" she shouted happily. She stared up at his large physique, and stated with a giggle "And you're bald!" Hermes bellowed a hearty laugh and hugged her again. Her hand reached up to rub his shined dome. He stood and picked her up in his strong arms.

"I'll always come back to you." He replied kindly. "You look lovely," he said, prompting her cheeks to flush. "Did mother buy you a new dress?" She nodded happily. "Yesterday. She says if I keep growing, she'll have to buy me a new one tomorrow." He smiled at this. Another whisper passed his ears, this one female, and less silky than all of the others. His battle- hardened mind began to race with anticipation, and a warm sensation buzzed in his chest. However, he put it out of his psyche. Now, there was playing and laughter to be shared.

He placed her on the ground, and knelt to her level. "Would you like to play a game?" he asked her. To his dismay, she shook her head. "Not today. They told me you can't stay long." He frowned, and asked "Who told you that?" "They did," she said. "They told me they need your help." The whisper suddenly came back, this time with more intensity. _Ancient one_ , it seemed to say, _wake up._

Hermes knew what would come next. He turned from his sister. "I must be going." He said gloomily. "Will you come back?" came her reply. He turned to her and smiled. "Always, my dear. How could I ever forget about you?" he replied, as this heavenly world faded from existence.

The sun was soon replaced by the glow of lumen globes. The fields, by the sheen of dank metal. Tower buttresses soared above him as read-outs and schematics soon flooded his vision. His arms felt heavy with the weight of fully-charged armaments. Here, the world was a far different place. Here, the world was grim and dark, and his duty switched from pleasant dreaming to that of destruction.

His wounds had not healed, but sealed away in this amniotic sarcophagus, he was no longer in pain. His seven- meter chassis whirred to life, and his exhaust stacks billowed with black smog that nearly drowned out the swirling incense. A small woman stood before him, clad in a white, hooded robe, and bristling with augmented wires that connected to a pack on her back. He spoke, and his deep, guttural voice was electronically rendered to the outside world "Where are we?" he asked, causing the very walls to shudder with the sound of his presence.

"We are at a world called Conquer, Ancient Hermes. And you are needed once again." Her voice sounded strange, and tine. As if her vocal cords had not been augmented yet. Her face was a maze of wiring and bulged flesh, but it was still mostly flesh. She was an initiate of the Mechanicum, he decided. One who had barely begun her journey to becoming more machine than human. "Do I have a mission briefing?" He asked. "Yes," she replied. "It has been uploaded to your system." A flash of blue light shone across his eyes, and the information flooded his brain. In that instant, he knew everything he needed to do.

"Will my drop pod be ready?" "Yes, ancient one. The legion has already begun deployments. You are to lead an assault just ahead of the army." "I understand." He stated dryly. He stepped from his plinth, and lumbered down the great hall, to where the battlefront awaited him.

Among the legions, it was a great honor to be encased in a Dreadnought. A nigh- indestructible piece of machinery that entwined with the user's neural synapses, thereby becoming his very flesh. Hermes bore this honor with solemn humility. At first, he hated his metal tomb, and regretted the fact that his grievous wounding had brought him to this in the first place. However, soon, he grew to accept it, and even rather enjoy some aspects of his new status. He was free to retreat into his own mind whenever he wished, and dream the centuries away, until the staccato bark of battle called to him once more.

He lumbered into a most- empty embarkation bay, where an enormous drop pod waited to shuttle him to the planet's surface. Shivers ran through the ship as her orbital cannons fired, and lance beams lit up the nearby viewing portal. The battle for this world was already intense. He prepared himself to unleash every ounce of his fury on the Xenos foe that besieged this world, and tried to balance his humors.

He carefully checked his weapons systems. His assault cannon was at full capacity, and his twin flamers had full tanks of promethium. His siege claw flexed. He was ready. All around him, army units were boarding storm birds, in anticipation of his decent to the planet. Eyes cast upon him, and turned away. Several soldiers made the sign of the Aquila as he passed, and several reached out to touch his carapace.

The drop pod before him opened, and he boarded the tiny vessel. All eyes were on him as the door closed. His virtual map opened and pointed out a location with the highest concentration of enemy activity. This was to be his drop point. He primed his weapons systems as the pod dropped into the atmosphere. "Courage and honor." He repeated to himself.

Xasze 'Muham watched the sky as it came alight with what seemed to be metallic comets. He had not encountered such a thing before, and wondered what sort of omen this could spell for the rest of the campaign. Surely, the Prophets would have told him that there was something coming, else they wouldn't have given their full blessing in this holy war. Perhaps "war" was not a proper term for it. The planet's defenses were broken, and now, they were on to extermination.

The populace here was weak, and many of them readily surrendered to the Covenant forces. They should have known by now. There was no surrender. Not here. Not with him. The gods desired their destruction, and he was obliged to carry this implicit order out.

Several of his Kig-Yar cohort gathered to his side. "Sir," one of them voiced in his strange accent. "This domicile is clear. Shall we move to another location?" He nodded curtly. "Pass out rations to your men. And have the Unggoy burn the bodies. The humans' stench offends me." The Kig-yar sped off to his waiting squad without another sound.

Black smoke rose from several of the buildings as the smell of burning corpses filled the air. The humans were such delicate things. Their skin and bones easily crumbled under the bolt of a plasma weapon, leaving them in charred ruin.

Ashes fell from the billows of smoke. He stepped through the rubble into the center of this village square. The outskirts of the city were dimly lit at best, but after the power had been killed, the night sky had seemed somehow iridescent. He did not remember hearing of solar flares on this planet, and wondered if this may be an atmospheric anomaly.

More comets zoomed past in flaming arcs. The distant boom of their impacts filled the air. Perhaps this was a product of the destruction of the planet's moon. He hadn't been close enough to examine the falling debris, and was unsure if it was metallic, or stone.

Another Sangheili marched into view and made a quick motion with his fist against his helmet. His blue armor shimmered his suppressor field's glow. He called out "Major. Communications seem to be down." The red armored Sangheili walked to meet his inferior. "Have you tried squelching your channels? Perhaps it is an effect of this comet storm." "I have, but only receive static." Xasze clicked his mandibles in irritation "Return to the rear when you can, and have a huragok fix it. We'll maintain battle-sign until then." He retorted.

The comets were getting closer now with each passing moment, and Xasze vaguely wondered if they would have to fall back until the storm cleared. As a small band of Kig-yar approached him once again, a dull shriek split the air. A fire ball lit the ground around them. Suddenly, the smoke was clearing, and the ashes blew outward, as if some wraith had simply blown them all away.

One of the comets was approaching. It flew straight down, and was vaguely pyramidal in shape. It trailed brilliant fire, but its sides were painted a deep blue. "Take cover!" the Sangheili shouted. The ground forces scattered, Xasze took cover behind a nearby vehicle. The object slammed into the ground with the force of a large explosive. Several of the Unggoy were unlucky enough to be directly in its path, and were immediately crushed on impact.

The smoke cleared, and small explosive at the object's apex forced its sides open, like a blooming flower. The Kig-yar readied their shields, and several approached it nervously, weapons at the ready. "Hold fire until the threat presents itself." Xasze called to his troops.

Out of the darkness of the craft's interior, a large shape came lumbering on robotic legs. It must have been tens of cubits in height, and its top gave way to a steeply sloping box- like appearance. It rushed out with incredible speed for such a large thing, and crushed the nearest Kig-yar with its dreadful weight.

The covenant opened fire. Plasma bolts impacted against the thing's carapace, but simply left smoking scorch marks. Needler fire grazed its flanks, and simply exploded where they hit. Through it all, the thing seemed to be laughing in deep, guttural tones. Its arms raised, and simply batted away several of the Kig-yar. They flew several meters in the air, before their bodies impacted nearby buildings.

The Unggoy backed away, maintaining fire on this metallic hulk. A glow from both of its arms suddenly showered them in blue- red flame. Their methane tanks exploded, and many were incinerated where they stood. Xasze's plasma rifle overheated. He held up the smoldering weapon, attempting to allow it to cool, but the thing's onslaught would soon reach him, he realized. "Fall back!" he called to his remaining forces.

The Kig-yar turned and began to run, covering their backs and heads with their hand- held shields. The thing bellowed its joy to the heavens, and shouted in a deep, human voice "Turn to me and meet thy doom, Xenos!"

A weapon on its arm began to spin as it took aim at the retreating covenant. Gunfire erupted from the whirring device, and shredded stone and Kig-yar alike. It immediately overwhelmed their shields, and tore their bodies into sprays of bloody viscera. An unlucky Kig-yar, whose legs seemed to no longer function, attempted to crawl away, but was crushed under one massive foot.

Xasze turned to his fellow Sangheili, only to find that he was gone. The inferior commander ran across the killing field, plasma sword in hand. It would prove to be his last act of defiance. He attacked the being, and gouged a glowing scar down its right leg. However, it barely seemed to penetrate its armor. It lifted him up by the head in its clawed hand. The Sangheili's armor glowed and flickered. The sound of sparking reflector field armor was soon replaced by the screech of metal- on- metal, and soon, by the wet crack of bone.

Orange blood leaked from the thing's fingers, and it hurled the Sangheili's ruined body to the ground in front of it, as if in challenge.

Xasze looked to his left, then his right. Very few of his Kig-yar remained, and only one Unggoy still crouched behind cover. The rest were either dead, or had deserted. A Kig-yar attempted to ready his shield. Thudding foot-steps soon announced the thing's attack. They started slowly, but soon quickened. The thing's shoulder slammed into their position, and they were crushed, like many of the others. Xasze stiffened. Now, he was alone. He wondered what would happen in the moment of his death. And more importantly, what this _thing_ was.

He stood upright, and bellowed a challenge to the creature. It turned to face him. "The Emperor's light shall burn out your filth!" it yelled. It reached down, and picked up a piece of destroyed concrete that seemed to be twice the size of any normal Sangheili, and simply threw it without a second thought.

Xasze Mu'ham's vision filled with the approaching debris, then simply went black. The creature's laughter echoed through his fading consciousness, and its footsteps simply left.

"Fifteen seconds to planetary impact." Came a metallic voice over the pod's vox speaker. Cassius gripped his grav-harness tightly with one hand, and mentally ran his war plate through one final systems check. The pod began to shake violently. Outer stabilizers fired, and their decent slowed, but only barely. Twenty Astartes lined the walls, each performing their own checks and final weapons calibrations.

Bolters locked and loaded, and plasma rifles glowed to life, bathing their users in an eerie blue tint. "Remember, brothers." He called out over the din "Kill without mercy. Break their will to fight." Twenty fists slapped chest plates in acknowledgement.

"Ten… nine… eight…" Cassius gripped his harness tighter. He always hated planetary impact. Not that he was afraid, for he had not known fear. He simply hated the bone- jarring slam into the ground. He always felt as though he was locked into an artillery shell with barely any protection from enemy fire, and no real direction.

He mag-locked his boots to the floor. "Seven… six… five…" the vessel's onboard vox sounded. He could already hear the sounds of combat leaking in from outside. "It sounds as though our brothers didn't wait for us. Show them up!" laughter filled the pod. "Four… three… two… one." The pod smashed into the ground below. It shook with the impact.

Cassius unlocked his harness, stood, and unsheathed Skarhelm. Explosive bolts blew the doors down on their hinges. "Courage and honor!" Cassius shouted over the cacophony that followed. He thumbed the activation switch on his gladius, and it was covered in a sickly blue repulsor field.

He charged from the pod, his crimson cape fluttering behind him. His squad followed suit. They had landed in midst of the enemy. Several of the smaller Xenos shrieked and attempted to run, only to be cut down by bolter fire.

A bird- like alien wielding a shield rushed Cassius, and fired a weapon that appeared to fire some sort of glass shard. One of these darts impacted his pauldron, and exploded, leaving a small divot in the ceramite. He swung his sword down against the creature's shield. His gladius met with resistance against the energy field surrounding the shield's frame, however, this creature was weak compared to the Astartes. He easily stepped to the side, and battered its shield away. Skarhelm plunged into its abdomen.

Viscera spilled from the wound, and blood sizzled and steamed from his sword. The thing collapsed with a gurgle. Cassius turned behind him, and cleaved a smaller creature's skull in two with a quick sweep from Skarhelm. Chainswords screamed around him, and Xenos burst with explosive bolter rounds.

A small, glowing round careened off his curved pauldron, leaving a black scorch mark in its wake. He quickly drew his bolt pistol, and fired it into the nearest Xenos, unsure if this was his attacker. The alien's chest burst open with bright blue viscera. He fired again, hitting another in the back.

The creatures seemed to be retreating now, and the Astartes followed. The dull, metallic hiss of a plasma gun discharged somewhere behind him, and carbonized the head of one of the bird- like creatures retreating before them. It went sprawling, and twitched several times, before finally falling still.

Several Astartes in gleaming terminator plate passed Cassius and opened fire on a nearby building. A small, glowing globe fell from an upper story window, and stuck to a terminator's pauldron. The tiny, glowing sphere exploded in a shower of sparks and super- heated gas. The terminator went down to one knee. An apothecary came to his aid, and began the long process of removing his pauldron.

Cassius growled in anger, and pointed his sword to the building. "Illuminate them, brothers!" he shouted over the vox. "Unleash hell!" Bolter fire erupted around him, and the top of the building disappeared in a hail storm of explosive bolt fire.

More of the tiny aliens ran from the scene, as around them, their comrades were cut down by the advancing Astartes. Cassius looked around the field of carnage, and shook his head. The aliens scattered on the ground were tiny, and were armed with mere side arms. _This must have been the expeditionary force_ , he thought to himself, _a mere probe on our lines._ "This was an insult to our honor, brothers," he voxed to his company. "The enemy has refused to fight us face- to- face, so they sent their minions to see what we're capable of." A murmur went up over the vox link. "Kill the survivors, my brothers. And leave them where they lay. Let these Xenos see what we are capable of."

Princeps Helina paced the bridge of the _Mons Furiosa_ , sighing with each passing minute. "How much longer?" she asked an irritated tone. "combat systems are initializing, my Princeps." Came a cool, monotone voice from the weapons control platforms. "How much longer?" she repeated. "Thirty- two seconds. Skitarii fighters are reporting minor skirmishes in our vicinity. "Perfect," she said "Moderati, are you linked?" "I have a link, my Princeps."

She nodded, satisfied that all systems were finally coming online. She turned, and mounted her command throne. She removed her crusher cap, and ran her hand through her hair. She produced a small tie from her pocket, and tied her hair back, revealing the neural implants sutured just below her skull. Tiny, hair thin wires climbed her shoulders, and crawled up her neck. "Establishing command link." Came a tine, robotic voice from somewhere behind her.

A gout of searing pain burst through her skull, and she gasped sharply. Her vision filled with brilliantly yellow light. The war machine's engines rumbled to life somewhere deep within, and her command throne shook. She blinked the light out of her eyes. Her vision was suddenly filled with images of bright forest, and dense canopy. A fertile valley opened below her feet. She could feel soft soil beneath her soles; could smell the scents of war on the air. Around her feet, seemingly miles below her, Skitarii fighters clashed with xenos in shimmering arcs of plasma and las- fire.

She smiled. She threw her head back and loosed a booming bellow from her war horn. She was no longer Princeps Helina. She was the master of the battle. She was the very breath of the Omnisiah She was the _Mons Furiosa_ , a towering Imperator- Class Titan, and this battle belonged to her.

Each step brought a new rush of exhilaration. Vegetation flattened beneath her feet. Each thudding step was the music of the apocalypse; the titan a vengeful god ushering in the demise of worlds.

"My Princeps," came a distant voice "Several enemy tanks detected." She glanced downward to find several small purple tanks hovering on repulsor fields. One fired directly into her leg, sending a stab of warmth over her lower calf. "Alert the tech priests to withdraw the Skitarii," she replied to her very distant crew. "Moderati, charge our plasma annihilator." Sparks of warmth filled her right arm. She levelled it at the nearby tanks, as she absent mindedly watched the retreating forms of battle cyborgs nearing her legs. Firing solutions flooded her mind in an instant. Her fingertips felt white- hot with pent of potential energy. "Annihilator is charged, ma'am." Came the distant voice again.

She fired at the nearest tank, knowing which one she chose would make no difference. In the span of a millisecond, a brilliant explosion erupted from the enemy vehicles. Shielded enemy warriors were boiled alive within their force fields, and their tanks were instantaneously vaporized.

The god- machine moved once again, and angled its trajectory toward the capital city, were smoke rose above the buildings in great, black tongues. The distant sounds of fighting were picked up by her sensors as the sun rose over the scarred land. She smiled. _Can't let the Astartes have all the fun, now can we?_ She thought to herself as she marched through the forest, into battle, and to glory.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3: Angels of Destruction

"Something's out there." Came the man's shaky voice. Alicia nodded and continued to gaze toward the outskirts of the city, where the luminous glow of a miniature sun still tinted the area a ghastly blue. It had been several moments since the explosion rocked their shelter, and its shockwave could have been felt from miles away. It hadn't been an orbital gun, she knew that. The color was all wrong for covenant weaponry, and more hadn't followed. That wasn't what scared her, though.

A deafening bellow had come several moments after the explosion. It was low and deep, almost as if it were the growl of angry predator, somewhere in the jungle. The very sound of it shook her to the core. Above her head, in the breaking dawn, whips of light and flame rent the sky in a dazzling display of blue and purple plasma fire. Distant thunder echoed off the walls again and again.

"Broadsides?" the man asked her. She shook her head. "We don't have anything that can do that." "What is it, then?" he asked. "I'm not sure. Covvies are fighting _something_ , though." She turned her gaze to his pale features, and smiled "Shit, maybe we got lucky and they're fighting each other." She sighed, immediately regretting this. It was a jest in poor taste, she knew, but she couldn't think of a single word that would lift his spirits.

Another bone- shaking bray resonated from the city's outskirts, this time closer. Whatever it was, it was fast. And it was quickly moving on their position. "We need to move," she told him. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to get killed by whatever the hell _that_ is." He nodded.

She cautiously stood, and stepped out of the tiny hovel that had played the role of their shelter throughout the night. Sounds of a distant fire fight graced her ears. Ash rained from the sky like grey- white snow. A strange, vaguely oily smell curdled the air about her nose. She turned to the man "You coming?" she called back. His pale face emerged from the darkness, and he took his first shaky step onto the ash- strewn ground. Together, they started walking.

"You know," she remarked, "You sure do get nervous a lot. You just out of basic?" "Conscript." He replied. "I was a baker before all this. They found out the covenant was making their way here, and-" "Gave you a uniform and put an assault rifle in your hand." She interrupted. He nodded grimly. "Pretty common story." She replied. "and conscripts are usually pretty twitchy when the bullets start flying."

The sounds of combat were getting closer and closer now. Several rocks shifted ahead. "What do you think is going on?" "I don't know." She replied. "Maybe we got some reinforcements." He audibly gulped, and followed her. He seemed to know she was trying to make him feel a little better about their situation. But that was unlikely.

Several shapes ran through the ashy haze ahead. Alicia raised her rifle and took a knee. They were small, and lumbered from side to side on too- thin legs. Alicia immediately recognized them. "Grunts." She whispered. The man fell to his knee as well, and immediately hyperventilated. "Oh man. Oh man. Oh man." He whispered. His shaky hands attempted to raise his assault rifle. Alicia shot him a disapproving look. He was fumbling with his weapon's safety catch. The shapes were getting closer now. They seemed to be in a panicked rush. Only one seemed to clutch a weapon in its tiny hands, and this didn't even seem to be charged. Explosions cut the air around them, rained bits of broken stone and debris around them, and illuminated her silhouette. The creatures saw her, and shrieked in fright.

Alicia didn't hesitate. She opened up with a burst of fire from her assault rifle. Rounds punched into the short aliens, cutting them down in a spray of blood and gore. They all fell without another sound. The sounds of battle were intensifying around them. She turned to the man. He was laying on his back, covered in ash. He hyperventilated pathetically. His rifle was clutched in clawed hands.

She approached and helped him up. "Next time we're in immediate danger," she said with an air of annoyance, "Try to at least fire your weapon." He nodded quickly, his face a mask of fear. She walked away, allowing him to follow her to the corpses of the aliens. Aside from their bullet wounds, several were brutalized beyond recognition. One had a grievous wound to its abdomen that cut through its armor. The flesh underneath was torn into jagged strips of meat. The man looked at it cautiously. "It looks like it got hit with a chainsaw." He said in awe. Another explosion rocked the ground nearby.

Alicia grabbed the man's hand. "We've got to move." She told him. Together, they broke into a run. More aliens were running away from the fight. Most were grunts, and a few jackals. She was almost certain she even saw an elite or two among those who were running. She paid them no attention, however, as they paid her none.

They came to a courtyard in a small building nearby. Transit signs covered the walls and littered the ground here. Alicia stopped and shoved him inside, near a row of planters bearing great, reddish- brown trees. She followed him in, and ducked behind the nearest planter. She looked over the lip of it, toward the water feature that was the centerpiece of the courtyard. Broken marble tiles covered the ground near the fountain. The fountain itself was still somehow functional. A broken screen was placed over the fountain. It spouted gouts of sparks, and flickered every few minutes, as if trying to turn on. _Must have been a light rail station_ she thought to herself. She shook her head at the thought. She could've been at this exact station, merely days ago. What had once been a beautiful place had been reduced to mere rubble. If this place was ever rebuilt, it would take years.

Cruciform shapes screamed overhead. They bristled with needle- like projections and missile pods that glowed a dull blue. "You ever seen a fighter like that?" the man asked. "It's not one of ours," she replied. "Must be whoever tore up the covenant before."

She reached into her drop pocket, and fumbled around before her hand met a pack of cigarettes. Idly lighting one, she turned her back to the courtyard, and thought about their next move.

Smoke filled Xasze's lungs with choking particulate as his consciousness slowly made its way back to the surface. His skull pounded, and his ears rang with the clatter of distant fire fights. His vision slowly came back. There were fires here. They engulfed several buildings and washed his broken, battered body in intense heat. He looked all around him, his eyes falling one-by-one to the dead warriors that had been under his command.

His memories were slowly flooding back into his mind. That thing had- he stopped. What exactly _was_ that, anyway? It was nothing like any human technology he had seen before. _And it escaped without damage._ He thought to himself. He shuddered to think of the destruction being wrought elsewhere in the city, against his fellow warriors.

Shapes entered his field of vision and accumulated by the moment. Humans were walking past him, bearing rifles that were unknown to him in human technology. As they got closer, he could see that they were the _size and shape_ of humans, but that is where the similarities ended. There were red robed figures, covered in mechanical plates and writhing tentacles and extra limbs. They vaguely reminded him of the blue sea hunters on his home world. There were soldiers with them as well. Men in red clothing with metallic faces, bearing rifles that glowed blue- white.

The robed figures were picking through the rubble, examining everything they came across. Some things were simply thrown aside; and some, they examined more closely. Tiny lenses extended from their face plates and examined plasma rifles and Kig'yar shield generators more closely. One crouched in front of him. He held his breath.

The human-like thing picked up his plasma sword and turned it over and over in its metallic hands. Hundreds of tiny fingers danced over the sword's hilt, as its eyes whirred and clicked with each new discovery. It removed cover plates and energy cells, examining these as well.

Xasze's armor began to reinitialize. Lights flicked across his eyes, as warning sigils began flashing. His shield generators were offline, atmospheric sensors were severely damaged, and his locomotion servos were at twenty percent of optimal power. He attempted to move one finger. Just one digit should go unnoticed. He found movement in the finger extremely difficult. His armor hissed with the effort. He held his breath again. The thing in front of him looked up.

Metallic hands reached out and grabbed his face. Tiny fingers prodded his helmet. They lingered near the top. Xasze realized in a moment of horror that this, this thing, this _human_ was trying to determine how to pry off his helmet. He knew he would be found out. Would be killed, laying here on this filthy human planet. He had to act. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he forced his arm up, and knocked the robed figure onto its back. The thing flailed and landed in the dirt. It emitted a shrill, static- laced cry. One barking sound that carried in less than a second.

Almost immediately, three of the soldier- things broke formation, and rushed forward. Xasze forced his armor to right itself. With incredible effort, he was able to get his feet under him, and broke into a slow jog, away from the cybernetic humans.

Gouts of blue energy sizzled past him. His lenses attempted to compensate for the searing light, but several times, his vision was washed out by extremely close energy blasts. He staggered, his armor whining with the effort of movement, as another blast exploded on the ground beside him. In that moment, he remembered being a child on his home world. He remembered frolicking with his siblings through the red fields. He remembered hiding from them. He remembered _how_ he hid. At the sound of the next shot, he simply fell. He allowed his armor to go still and buried his face in ground.


End file.
